


The Final chapter

by Messypeaches



Series: In which the universe is first broken and sick, and then repaired and made well by a doctor [3]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, PWP, mention of a big dress, sex sex sex, tying off loose ends., unrepentant smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-26
Updated: 2012-05-26
Packaged: 2017-11-06 01:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/413321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Messypeaches/pseuds/Messypeaches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The smut that didn't fit thematically into 'Torchwood Effect'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Final chapter

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for making it this far.

"Wait, so, if we send the message through the relay, it'll get there in forty five minutes," Shepard said. "We can't just go?"

"We can, but the Quarians prefer it if you knock, and you can't get messages inside. So we'll send them a head's up, they'll send back a 'we look forward to seeing you in forty five minutes' and then we get there," Joker said.

"How long does it take for US, in the relay?"

"Here to there is three hours, Commander," Edi said. "Relative time within the anomalies."

"Can we.. Send the message, wait half an hour, then go since our message to them will get there forty five minutes before us?"

"Well, that only works if you know they're going to say yes," he said. "And they get touchy if they think you've assumed."

"Alright," she said, exhaling. "Alright, that'll work."

"Your quarters have been emptied and cleaned, Commander," EDI offered, helpfully. "There are even fish."

"But they're alive, we didn't want to kill them for you," Joker said, smiling.

Shepard groaned. Well, she'd have a full bed again and she'd feed the poor doomed fish at least a few times. Maybe now that the elevator worked smoothly she'd have better luck.  
********

It was...

There were still some of her THINGS in the back of the closet, the sort of things that people probably looked at, then resolved to deal with later.

She understood that. That was fine. What was less fine was the fact they had been taken out so something even MORE shameful could be crammed into the darkest recesses of the storage space.

She pulled it out.

And out.

It was like unraveling a magician's scarf. yard after terrible fluffy yard spilled out, like a taffeta magma flow. It was blue, and it was silver, and rich little earth girls who hadn't spent their days dreaming of the next meal and another blow dodged had probably dreamed of growns like this, and big white horses with inbred royalty perched on top.

Captain Jack had once commented to her that new royalty always had the flashest gems, and old royalty had land.

This was VERY farmgirl married up wedding gown.

Just.. What was it doing here?

And she didn't think she'd be able to get it back into the closet, not without help.

She gave it a try, anyway, and had it half up before the hoop fought back and she found herself under what felt like a hundred pounds of complicated engineering and...

She gave up. If she fought her way free she'd tear it and it didn't looked cheap. Just. Tacky. 

"EDI, I need to use the intercom."

"Yes Commander."

"This is Commander Shepard, asking that the owner of the big blue dress currently attempting to take over my cabin please come collect it. Or subdue it."

She flopped back, looking at the ceiling. Slightly embarrassing? Maybe, but not as embarrassing as being the person who owned this thing. Anyway it was probably Kasumi's, some trophy from some long dead... Kasumi'd be glad the thing hadn't gotten torn.

****

"Did Kasumi send you?"

"I would actually prefer to put this away before she investigates," Thane said, expertly making the hoops fold up.

"Whose is it?"

"I would rather not think about it," Thane said, but he was trailing off. Already stuck in a memory.

Shepard sat up and put her chin on her fist, elbow on her knee, watching him.

"I tell him if he starts to laugh, I will be forced to kill him... There's music, it's too loud, muffle, I cannot make out the words, or the language. The dress is heavy, and fits poorly. Garrus insists the color brings out my eyes. I debate poisoning him on the spot, but the dress has no pockets."

Shepard chewed the inside of her cheek in a hurry. It was that or hysterics. "I'll just pretend you didn't tell me that, Thane."

"Thank you, Commander."

"You can shove it back into the closet. I'll deal with it later," she said. her stomach hurt. She focused on that, holding in muscle spasms before she lost it utterly.

She waited for the humm of the elevator going down to plant her face in the musty pillows and HOWL.

Then go wash her face, and started making a list of things she needed to buy. Like pillows that didn't trigger coughs so deep she almost threw up.

*********

 

She got the bed stripped, flipped the mattress, and debated getting the dress out to use as a shield between herself and a five year old mattress that hadn't been in great condition when she'd left it. She was tired and wanted to get a nice long nap in without having to worry about the smell giving her weird dreams.

It didn't help that she'd found the remains of what had to have been a hamster nest up near the headboard. At least there wasn't a dead hamster in it.

She was about to wad up her clothes for a pillow that would be at least partially funk-free when there was a knock at the door.

"Come in," she said, missing Ianto for a moment. If this was Torchwood there would have been fresh sheets waiting at the end of the bed. Also, she'd be counting the days to get home and Owen would be... Somewhere. Existing at her. So really, in the long run this was better, but still.

Fresh sheets right now would be nice.

"Hey."

She turned, and felt a smile splint her face. "Have I told you how perfect you are?"

"In those exact words? No, but I often feel appreciated?" Garrus said, dubiously. But he had sheets over one arm and she didn't care.

"Those are from the medbay?"

"Yes," he said, smiling. "Going back to the part where I'm perfect?"

"Perfect timing with sheet delivery," she said, taking them. "Doc let you out?"

"About an hour ago but I wanted to eat, before I bothered you. Heard Thane's dress attacked."

"The one you said brought out his eyes?" She said, taking the sheets, shaking them out. He'd brought several, she'd layer them up. Perfect. "What happened?"

"I did promise not to tell," Garrus said. "And if you ask him, he'll relive it. And sulk."

"Was he your date?"

"That's the short version," Garrus said. "And the most accurate. Jealous?"

"Only because I don't think I could pull off that much dress," she said.

"Thane couldn’t. I'm not sure who can," Garrus said, moving to the other side of the bed, pulling the fabric smooth.

Raw, fresh healed skin around his neck like a collar. Well, from a collar so that made sense. It still made her angry, to look at it. Something done in her name. She focused on the bed, instead. 

"Five years of stories, and the good ones are all secrets."

"We just already know them," Garrus said. "I want to know where you were, what you were up to. I didn't catch most of the first telling past the time traveller fixing the relays and then dumping you off on some alternate past earth."

"Kept a journal," she offered. "I didn't bring it with me, though."

"Oh, good, because the Way of the Shepard needs a new testament like I need another rocket to the face," he said, shaking his head. The reaching out, catching her wrist. More of a tap, to it, really. "I wanted to-" he started.

That was all she needed to climb onto the bed. It wasn't a low bed, on her knees she was a little below eye level. It worked.

"You always look surprised when that works," she said, and he shrugged.

“I think you get happy confused with surprised,” he said, leaning his head down. Forehead to hers. “I haven’t gotten to welcome you home yet.”

“You didn’t seem up to it,” she said. Lips brushing his mouth.

The physics of it were always like this. She kissed him. Turians didn’t really have the lips for traditional human kissing. Put a hand up, heel of her palm on her own cheek, fingers rubbing up under his mandible. Nails just long enough to drag on the more fragile skin, make him his, hands tighten, eyes slitting shut.

There had been a few benefits to Cardiff and actual regular self pampering with Jack had been high on the list. She had actual healthy, painted nails for the first time in... well, in her life. It was a clear gelcoat but still. she’d be sad to see them go.

She licked her lips and watched his eyes. Nose to nose, hers bent a bit because it had more give to it.

“For you? I can be up for anything,” and she started to let out a breathy laugh and he nipped at her lower lip, held it between his teeth. Let go, let her gasp.. “I swear that when you’re not around, almost nothing I say can be taken so.. Inappropriately,” he muttered, hands straying to her waist.

“It can be, it’s just that no one does,” she said. “I missed your taste.” And how long your fingers are, and your smell, and a great many other traits.

She leaned back, hands smoothing his shoulders and working out where the hell the fasteners were. At least that was the plan, but he leaned with her. “Did you now?”

“Yes,” she said. “Though I found a candy that was close and I might have come close to choking on it. “ Sticky brown pulp on a yellow stick, gritty sweet, and tart.

“Turian flavored candy?” he chuckled. “You ate that in public?”

“It was close and I was not expecting that particular taste,” she said. The tamarindo soda had similarly effective links to memory. “And give me a little space to get out of this.” It was zippers and fused seams and a little bit of a pain, and she had to step off the bed to shuck herself out of it.

That was the plan, at least, except as skin got exposed it got kissed, nipped. She barely had an arm free, a shoulder bare before he was holding her elbow, nipping just inside the joint.

Pulling her flush, other hand between her shoulder blades.

Shepard started laughing, arms around his neck, head. Burbling laughter, not hysterical, but certainly outside her ability to stop. He straightened up, and helped her sit but she didn’t let go of him.

Didn’t take her lips from his temple, and even when she stopped laughing she was still smiling.

“New ticklish spot?” He asked, bemused. Maybe a little worried.

“No, not at all,” she said. “I just... You find my soft spots, don’t you?”

“You’re a human. You’re made of soft spots,” he said. “I’ve developed a deep and abiding appreciation for your soft spots, I missed your soft spots, and I’d like to make sure they’re all still there.”

Dragging a warm finger along the line of her jaw, touching her collarbone.

“I don’t know how to get you out of this,” she said, tapping the edge of his collar.

“Well it’s trial and error on this thing, too,” he said, prodding one of her zippers. “Mine’s a newer model but it’s all the same clasps. You’ll have an easy time of it.”

“But you won’t let me undress myself?”

“I don’t want to let go of you,” he said. “I just don’t.”

“Let me get to my underwear, at least?” She had to catch his wrist, pull his hand to her face. Another kiss, with a lot of leaning as she freed up her arms. it’d felt good to be back in the modified uniform she’d all but lived in, but now she was missing the hell out of the Torchwood dress code.*

Jeans and armored vests were easy to shuck, was the point, and now she was missing them. They’d be on the floor by now.

Down to a undershirt, the sort that doubled as support because the rest of the clothes did all the heavy lifting in that department. Black and white and grey synthetics wadded around her waist.

She’d have pushed it the rest of the way off, to get tangled on her boots and knock her over, but...

But he was licking at her mouth now, nipping again, both hands framing her face and really it’d wait. Right now she needed... metal under her hands while she felt for the releases. Clicks at pops and he had to pull away or risk getting caught in his own armor.

At least now he seemed more interested in being helpful, or at least staying out of her way while metal hit metal, made a proper pile on the floor.

Fingers on her waist, pushing down under the fabric, past the waistband of her panties, pushing everything down at once. Squeezing the back of her thighs, getting her on her knees just to nuzzle under her jaw, till her head was tipped back and her back was arched. Until she was holding his shoulders to keep from falling backwards. Nails dragging over his skin, catching, skittering. Oh yes, that what why she had worn short nails, they tended to break on the flesh of his back.

“I’ve got you,” he said. Shrugged a shoulder under her palm.

“Don’t I know it,” but she let go and didn’t fall because he had her hips.

Meant that she could grab the hemp of the undershirt and pull it off, up and over. Gasping because the combination of teeth and tongue and nipple was making her toes curl up.

Biting her lower lip because it was that or she'd start babbling, telling him she'd missed him, wanted him so badly for three long years, tell him how afraid she'd been of losing him to time. Her hands moved on their own, gripping his fringe and pulling, pulling until his head was back, face up and she could kiss him again, harder this time.

A pang in her breast told her that yanking a mouth of teeth like his was not an act without repercussions.

She didn't care. It'd heal.

Sucking at his tongue, shuddering and aware she was probably going to split her lip at this rate. It was very hard to care. Well, it was hard for her to care, but he pulled back.

"What's," He started but she shook her hair.

"It was a long three years," she said, licking her lips, tasting copper. Shit. Oh well. "It was a long three years, and you're here now, and..." She swallowed. Grasped for words. "You're here now," she repeated.

"I'm here now," he agreed. Licked the red from the corner of her mouth. 

“Nn, don’t, someday your tongue will swell up,” she said, but she didn’t pull her head away, just let her lips part. Didn’t let go of his fringe, either, but her grip loosened. Stroked along his crest.

“Today is not that day,” he said. Dipped his head to kiss her shoulder. “Lay back, I’ve got you.”

“Don’t want to let go.”

“Don’t then. I’m not going anywhere,” nuzzling a breast, again. “I’m not the one that keeps dying.”

She went backwards, not letting go of his head, shifting to kick the last of her clothes off, except they tangled on her boots. “Dammit.”

“Leave it.”

“But my feet are tied together like this.”

“Good?”

“Hn,” she said. “This some new kink?”

“Just being an opportunist,” he said, kissing the inside of her wrist, turning his head back to rub his face against her belly a moment.

Hand on her hip, thumb pressing in against the bone. 

“Nn, my feet are stuck together,” she said. “Isn’t that a bit of a problem if you’re going to between my legs, tonguing me out? Sort of makes it hard?”

“Is that my goal?”

“Fuck I hope so,” she said, head going back to those crisp clean sheets. Hot wet tongue in her navel, a flicker. “Nnngg,” she said, back arching. Her hands moved down his neck and gripped the armored ridge. Felt the sharp edges in her palms.

And then she was feeling the same sharp edges on the back of her thighs. Her heels hit the center of his shoulder blades, legs making a collar.

She did not squeal because that just wasn’t a sound she ever admitted to making, but ‘high pitched pleased moan’ was the next best descriptor. The scrape of teeth and hot hard skin tended to do that to her. At least she managed not to yank his fringe.

“Fu-fuck,” felt about as eloquent as she was going to be getting today because... It wasn’t that she’d forgotten what a damn clever tongue he had, it was just... strong and there and wonderful. 

Garrus just chuckled, into her, and held her hips, arms keeping her still, trapping her. She was going to have red spots, maybe scratches, maybe bruises, after this and she’d forgotten how much she liked them.

Pinning her to the bed, warm hand gripping her breast, thumbing her injured nipple, making her groan, breath catching and restarting. If she forgot to breath she tended to pass out, and while she didn’t mind it worried him. 

Arch, twist, press into his touch, his mouth. Felt her mind give up for a bit, spark out. Noises that were purely human getting wrenched out of her throat. She must not have passed out because the bastard didn’t stop, just coaxed a second bone shaking orgasm out of her, to stopping until her heels were hammering his back and she was pushing his head back . “Stopstopstop you, fuck, bastard, stop before I’m just done.”

“Language like that’s why the cultists thought you hated me,” he said, licking the crease of leg and hip. 

“Whaa..” She went limp. “For.. Fucks sake Garrus this is not.. The time too... Shut up.” Shifted and yes, yes, her feet were still all... Fuck. “Just... Hush and free my feet and...” Hold me, fuck me, do that again, use your fingers. Anything.

He finally did, untangled himself from her, untangled her from her garments.

Stretched over the now rumpled sheets with her eyes closed for a minute, feeling tiny little aftershocks down her damn spine. Air cool on damp skin, between her toes.

Taking a deep breath in. Listening to the doubt thud of her boots getting tossed somewhere, then a soft sigh of a sound. Opening her eyes. 

He was watching her. That was all. Eyes dragging over her skin with enough intensity she half expected to feel it like claws, raised red lines. 

“Oh,” she said, except it wasn’t a word just a low exclamation because the look on his face was having a reaction on her as visceral as a punch. She moved, stretched out a leg and hooked her foot to the spur on his hip. Pulled hard, half sitting up to catch him when he tumbled forward against her. “Ooff,” because oh yeah, he was heavy, but that was fine. 

He caught most of his weight, anyway, spared her the impact before pulling her tight again. She let him, hands lazily re-memorizing the raised patterns of his sides, where muscle reacted with plating, where the skin was thinner. 

She tried to trace one of those... Seams with a nail and realized she’d already broken one. “Nine to go,” she said, half to herself. 

“Huh?”

“Nails.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, and his arms tightened. “I told you that I tried to get over you, right?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Did I say how?”

“Don’t think so. Don’t care,” she said, then considered. “Well, I care but if you’re going to confess to something sordid, I’m not going to be upset.”

“I...” he hummed. “Kasumi told you?”

“No, I’m- wait, was it with Kasumi?”

“What? No, god no, I...” He put his head to her shoulder. “She likes them green, and they started flirting about ten seconds after we all ended up working for Liara, so... Also you know it wasn’t her, because Thane hasn’t killed me yet. It was...”

“You don’t have to confess, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Shepard said, gently. 

“Feels like I did. All that asking you to be just mine, then...”

“I’m going to say this once, and I don’t want to repeat it,” Shepard said, fingers over his mouth before her hand turned, and she was rubbing along his jaw again. “Look, I know that if you’d known I was coming back, you would have waited. right?”

“Easy to say yes now,” he said.

“If you want, I can be annoyed at you for about, ten minutes,” she said. “But I’m not going to put more effort into it than that, and I expect sex to resume when it’s done.”

He laughed into her shoulder, tension broken and gone. “You’ve got a one track mind.”

“I’m lucky to have any mind at all after that,” she said, patting his head. Thumbing the edge of the mandible. The scars were all faded here, now. “I’m glad me dying didn’t destroy you, and I’m selfish enough to be glad you didn’t manage to move on, but if I die again properly, I’d want you too. If that makes sense.”

“Did I ever manage to tell you that I loved you?”

Shepard paused, then shook her head. “No. I managed to tell you, though.”

“Well, I didn’t want to just parrot it back, and it seemed like it might be bad luck to shout it as you walked away,” Garrus said. Exhaled. “Was that cowardly?”

“You could say it now,” she suggested. “Though if you want to wait a moment so your declaration isn’t on the heels of your confession to having dated while I was dead, you can wait.”

“It wasn’t a dating thing it was a few attempts at one night stands.”

“You’re really enjoying missing the point now,” she said. Thumping his back, again. “You’ve missed the entire target of this conversation so badly you’re going to botch your next shot.”

“I never botch shots.”

“But you miss points.”

“I love you.”

Shepard felt a stupid smile settle onto her face anyway. “Took you long enough.”

“I did say it to your tomb once.”

“Oh, god, a whole tomb...” She shut her eyes, groaned. “For fucks sake, Garrus, just, tell me you love me and stop talking.”

“I can do that.”

“But you’re not!”

He rolled, to his back, dragging her with him. “I love you,” he said, catching her wrist and licking her palm theatrically.

“Love you too,” she straddled him, hands on his chest, leaning down. Nose to nose, again. Watching those eyes, smiling. Hard not to smile, now. Smile against his skin, his chin. And wriggling her bottom backwards. Just until she felt that hot damp organ that had finally decided to join the party. Pressing back and down and listening to the hiss he made. 

If anyone had ever speculated near her as to what possible reason a human could have for sleeping with a turian, Shepard would have had an answer.

Well, depending on the tone, her answer might have been in large, clear body language.

But if you’d given her a drink or two first, and talked her into speculating, she would have said temperature. Turians were hot, usually running ten degrees hotter than most humans, and the hands that were running from her knees to her ass were warm.

The third or fourth drink would have lead her into a speech about finger length. They were impressive fingers, soft on the pads and tipped with dagger like nails, yes, but somewhere between the fact Garrus was very careful and wouldn’t hurt her on purpose was a warm, safe feeling that mixed with with the thrill that he could.

She could feel muscles working against her inner thighs while he sat halfway up and held it. Big warm hands squeezing, and it wasn’t much of a reach for him to curl his wrist. Talons on her skin, tracing the edges of her labia.

Biting her lower lip only got her mouth licked, until she was sucking on his tongue and moaning while fingers pushed in, and held her open. 

Her knuckles were white on the sheets with the effort of staying even remotely still. Making an almost desperate sort of noise that Garrus matched with a moan.

She broke the kiss to breath, to shut her eyes and twitch, hips moving back. “Garrus you bastard you are not dragging this out!”

He laughed. “You’re not in a position to negotiate, now are you?”

Shepard had a glare that worked as well as drawing a weapon, if only because she usually drew a weapon at the same time and the expression had become permanently linked to impending acts of violence in the minds of everyone who had to deal with her.

Garrus just licked her cheek, and wiggled his fingers. “I’m not dragging it out,” he said. “You’re in too big of a hurry. Take a breath.”

“Breathing’s overrated,” she said. It wasn’t like he wasn’t eager either. All those little tells, the tension in his hands, the way his breathing hitched when she shifted like so. The pulse under her fingers when she made herself let go of the sheet and trace her fingers over the fresh and dancing scars. “Garrus, dammit, stop savoring the moment already.”

“Are you really going to make me stop?”

“I’m not,” she said. “But please?”

He shifted until she could just, feel him, slick and hot and god, those little ridges. She started to push back and stopped.

“Now you’re patient?”

“Was waiting for you to grab my waist and push me down.”

“It’s a nice waist,” Garrus muttered, but his hands moved, gripped.

“Supportive-” she started, but he’s arched, thrust up and pulled her down. “Ah!”

It was the weird twist to the shaft that always seemed to catch her by surprise. That and the textures.

She moved to rock down on him again, but he stopped her, help her tight. “Wait, you’re okay?” And it was strained, it cost him a bit to talk, to stop and that was very sweet and all but...

Shepard gave him a wide smile and set her forehead to his. 

And thrust her hips down as hard as she could. He took the point well. Hands tightened, rolled, and it would have been brilliant if they hadn’t been too close to the edge of the bed.

She let out a yelp, but her legs were half around his waist to start with and her ankles locked. That left Garrus with one foot on the bed, one foot off and with his arms very full, cursing while she managed to get her elbows down to the carpet.

“Are you alright?”

She started laughing,tightening her legs and dragging him the rest of the way off the bed. 

“I’m fine. Don’t you know all the best sex has carpet burns?” She said between gasps. Carpet burns and bruises, and anyway. “You caught me, I’m fine.”

And the rest was all friction. Along with two more broken nails.

 

~Fin~

 

*The Torchwood Dress Code was as follows: You’ll never look as good as Jack, but at least try, and remember, aliens tend to stain.

**Author's Note:**

> This is now my headcanon for Turian genitals and no one can tell me otherwise.  
> http://forums.bad-dragon.com/download/file.php?id=39277&t=1


End file.
